


Moments in the Rain

by Tomatosoupful



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: F/M, First chapter: soft smut, First time writing soft smut, Modern AU, Multi, Post-Pregnancy, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 17:41:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15394002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomatosoupful/pseuds/Tomatosoupful
Summary: Modern AU Imector Soft Smut.Post-Pregnancy, Imelda is relaxed and happy having her tea, thank you. But Héctor comes along and helps make her happier.





	Moments in the Rain

Imelda had missed these moments. Moments of silence and contemplation. Curled up in a soft blanket on a rocking chair, cradling a hot cup of tea and watching the scenery.  Tonight, the stars were tucked away behind storm clouds. Rain had been falling at a steady pace since late afternoon, soaking the courtyard and tapping against the roof. The weather was exactly what Imelda needed.

It used to be rare to have time for herself, balancing married life, supporting her younger brothers and climbing up the career ladder. However, since the birth of her newborn daughter, she had gladly accepted a few weeks to focus on the baby and nothing else. At two months, little Socorro was sleeping better than ever and now recently dozed off, Imelda had a good number of hours to watch the night sky, untainted by the artificial lights of México City. Here, in the humble town of Santa Cecilia, when the sky was clear of storm clouds, the stars were clear and visible. There was no heavy traffic to interrupt the tranquillity, just the occasional hum of the neighbours’ cars driving home from work. It was this atmosphere that called Imelda and her husband back after spending their days as young adults in the city. It was the perfect small town to raise a child.

The property they moved into last year was a good fit too. Secluded from the neighbourhood by tall brick walls and trees, a separate space for her brothers, and a balcony attached to her bedroom overlooking the courtyard. It was Imelda’s favourite place to relax and was usually accompanied by the pet cat. However, Pepita’s new mission in life was guarding the baby’s crib. So, Imelda sipped the last of her lemon tea then placed it down on the tiled floor, content with her own company.

Feeling slightly stiff, she changed her position and tucked her legs close to her chest. She felt comfortable, a feeling she had also missed. It had taken some time for her body to finally heal enough to feel relatively normal again, especially after the beating it went through. It wouldn’t be long before Imelda could help out around the house again. However, while her mind was ready for activity, her body still rejected the thought. Her eyelids were heavy and the blanket cocoon she had wrapped herself in was warm and cosy. Imelda closed her eyes, trusting a certain someone wouldn’t let her accidentally sleep outside the whole night.

At that thought the door to their balcony slid open. Imelda murmured “hey” wearing a smile.

Instead of a verbal greeting, Imelda received a pair of hands lightly touching her shoulders. Her smile grew and she tiredly mumbled, “Héctor…”

Héctor kissed the top of her head and mumbled her name, exhaustion slurring his voice. In the distance, they saw lightning fork across the sky. Héctor exhaled, blowing wisps of Imelda’s hair onto her face. “Storms almost here,” he said quietly. “Don’t you want to go inside?”

Imelda shook her head. “Not yet. You can if you want.”

Héctor grunted. Imelda knew him long enough to know that meant ‘not without you.’ His hands pressed against her shoulders and worked at the knots tied up in her muscles. Imelda sighed at the feeling. She had planned to get a professional massage at some point, but her husband’s handy work was far more satisfying.

Above her, Héctor tried and failed to hold back a yawn.

“You sound tired. Long day?” Imelda asked.

“Too long. Ernesto wanted the song done but I couldn’t get it to work,” Héctor replied, kneading his his knuckles along the edges of her shoulder blades. “I had …another song on my mind.”

“Oh?”

“Something for Coco.”

Imelda’s heart melted at the thought. She was about to say what a good Papá he was when Héctor softly chuckled. “I tried telling Ernesto and, well …”

“He shouldn’t complain,” Imelda said, her conviction firm but her voice drowsy. “It’s thanks to you he even has a career. A song for your daughter isn’t a big ask.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Good.”

Héctor’s hands left Imelda’s shoulders and moved to her collarbones, gentle tracing the dips and curves. His fingertips were rough, courtesy of years playing the guitar but gentle against her spotty skin. Since the birth, Imelda’s skin had been conspiring against her, drying up and witnessing the return of acne. A natural reaction, the doctor explained, but that didn’t mean Imelda had to like it. Despite this, Héctor was hardly deterred from touching his wife.

His hands flattened out and glided down until Imelda’s nipples were sneakily brushed against.

Imelda shivered at the touch. She had read the books and heeded the warnings from her girlfriends, but the weight and sensitivity pregnancy and childbirth brought to her breast had still taken her by surprise. Especially when they made a mess all over her shirts. She poked her husband’s wrist and joked, “Squeeze them and you’re dead.”

Héctor snorted. “I’ve been doing the laundry. I don’t mind cleaning up your boobie juice.”

Imelda groaned. “ _Don’t_ call it boobie juice.”

“What? I thought you loved that name,” Héctor insisted.

“No, _you_ love that name.”

“I was even thinking of writing a little jingle for it, so I can sing it to Coco every time she’s hungry.”

Imelda grimaced at the thought, already hearing the obnoxious tune. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’m tempted.”

“If you’re going to be a nuisance, you can go back inside,” Imelda said, her tone playful behind the threat. She wouldn’t even call it a threat, simply a reasonable demand. And Héctor was exceptional at twisting around and renegotiating her reasonable demands.

“Me? A nuisance? Never,” Héctor teased, continuing to massage Imelda’s chest. He concentrated on her nipples.

She shifted in her blanket as a shiver ran up her spine. Héctor must have been pleased with her reaction, judging by the way he did it again, then traced circles around the buds. Imelda bit her tongue to hold back her eager groan. She wasn’t _that_ desperate. A shaky sigh still fell through her lips.

That told Héctor everything. His hands left Imelda and combed through her hair. Leaning over the chair, Héctor kissed Imelda’s cheek. “Mind if I join you?”

Imelda matched Héctor’s mischievous smile. “I don’t know, I’m just so comfortable. I don’t want to move.”

She waited to see what he would do. First, he gave her a quick peck on the edge of her lips. Then, he observed the chair, reached down and tired to lift her off it. Imelda yelped when the chair rocked dramatically, nearly throwing her off, and Héctor withdrew wearing a guilty smile.

“ _Idiota_.” Imelda couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head helplessly.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Héctor held a hand out towards her. “Come _on._ You won’t regret it.”

He’d said the same thing when he’d asked her out. He had been correct too. So, Imelda swung the chair back and hauled herself up using the momentum. As soon as she was on her feet, her hand was caught in Héctor’s and he pulled her into his arms.

Imelda would deny it later, but she squealed in surprise when Héctor fell back into the chair, taking her with him. Neither expected the chair to swing as far back as it did. Both yelped then snickered after their near collapse, feeling like their foolish teenage selves. As their laughter calmed down in the cool rainy night air, the married couple clung to each other. Feeling warm and in a good mood, Imelda untangled the blanket and pulled it away. Sitting side-saddle on her husband’s lap, it felt slightly awkward to throw the blanket around him. Héctor leaned forward so Imelda’s hands could run the blanket flat along his back. With their faces closer, they made eye contact and kissed. She fitted her head under his chin and relaxed as Héctor hugged her closer.

The two of them sat in a warm tight embrace as the rain continued to pelt down. Imelda enjoyed moments like these and her husband’s company made it better. But also a little worse, too. Imelda could still feel where Héctor’s hands had travelled down her chest from before, a tingling that ached for more. Hormones, it was just hormones from the birth. The doctor said that was normal too.

Imelda’s medical appointment left her thoughts when Héctor’s hands moved again. This time, they ventured underneath Imelda’s shirt. There was something thrilling in the way Imelda couldn’t see him underneath the blanket but felt one hand tip-toe across her stomach as the other stroked her breast. Imelda sighed contently against Héctor’s neck.

Héctor’s chest rumbled against her as he muttered, “It’s been a while.”

“Don’t remind me,” Imelda said. She reached up to touch her husband’s face. His lips were cracked, and his goatee was still a pitiful attempt at facial hair. However, it tickled in an endearing way whenever Héctor felt like being cheeky, so Imelda wasn’t about to insult it.

Héctor’s fingers fluttered near her belly button. “I know you’re still recovering but…” his voice was so soft in comparison to the rain. “…would now be a good time?”

Imelda considered it, thinking over how her body had behaved over the last week in particular. She knew what she wanted. Again, she was _not_ desperate, but she wasn’t going to reject the offering either. So, Imelda reclined and opened her legs. She pressed her lips to Héctor’s neck and whispered, “How much do you want it? Because I’m not moving from this chair.”

He fingers attentively walking across her belly moved south, fiddling with the edges of her loose skirt. They faintly tapped the strap like he was playing a slow tune on the piano. “You don’t think this is a good spot?” he asked innocently.

Imelda gave him a look. “We still have neighbours,” she pointed out.

“Why do you think I asked for a tall fence?”

“Don’t lie to me,” Imelda smirked. “You only got that because of the noise complaints.”

She remembered distinctly how the neighbour the floor above punched their apartment door at 3 in the morning as revenge for Héctor’s playing. Héctor must have remembered it too by the way he awkwardly murmured, “That’s …half correct.” There was a brief silence before Héctor groaned softly, “ _Imelda_ , tell me.”

It was times like this when Imelda wasn’t sure who enjoyed teasing more. She kissed Héctor’s collarbone and said, “Just don’t… go inside me. Still sensitive.”

“See, _that_ is a good excuse.”

Imelda was about to insist that the issue of privacy was definitely a decent excuse but then Héctor continued his descent down underneath her skirt. She tensed with anticipation and her pelvis jolted as he went lower and lower. Soon, Héctor’s hand covered all of her. His pinkie and thumb caressing her inner thighs. His palm rubbed up against her, invoking a sensation that made Imelda’s toes curl. When Héctor did it again she nudged her hips to meet him halfway. That earned her an eager kiss, one that invigorated them. As Héctor’s fingers grew more adventurous, tracing every part of her like he was forming a map in his mind, Imelda tugged his hair and moaned against his mouth. Héctor made a similar keening noise. Imelda bunched up more of his hair and pulled faintly, knowing how much her husband liked it. And Héctor knew what she liked too, careful to avoid hurting her after the stress she went through during childbirth, but still stroking and touching in the patterns he had learnt after years thrilling her.

In the distance, there was thunder and the rain poured harder. Imelda found it pleasant, pulling back from the kiss to stare at the heavy sheets of rain. The building wind from the nearing storm and the pinpricks of the raindrops that occasionally strayed too close were like ice against her overwhelmingly hot body. As Héctor fondled her, his fingers slick from her juices, Imelda rolled the blanket away from her midsection, goosebumps rising along her skin.

Héctor shivered at the cool breeze and drew Imelda even closer. Imelda bit her bottom lip, her chest heaving as Héctor’s fingers went faster and her clit was tenderly massaged. Imelda’s hips bucked, and she could feel the pressure in her pelvis rising. Being attended to so passionately brought a pinch of guilt when Imelda’s hand was unable to slip in-between their tightly embraced bodies. All Héctor was getting thus far was her hip against his flat stomach, and her thighs sitting across his crotch. Hardly something to write home about. Imelda _wanted_ to gift Héctor the same treatment. She always felt generous when Héctor was toying with her this way.

So, bursting with energy thanks to Héctor’s efforts, Imelda moved her thighs, trying to rub them against Héctor’s crotch the best she could in the limited space. It wasn’t much in her opinion, but it made Héctor’s fingers work faster. Imelda copied her previous action, attempting to match him with equal speed and enthusiasm, as though competition against each other.

After a time, the chair they sat in groaned as it rocked back and forth with their increasing movements. Considering their past experiences, Imelda felt a little embarrassed at how quickly she was falling apart. She was hormonal, she kept telling herself and _maybe_ she was desperate, but she had the medical bills and additional baby to prove it and her husband was especially skilled with his hands so – Imelda’s body shook. This wasn’t her fault entirely. Another tingle branched from her clit and travelled deep within her, and her back arched. Her legs instinctively shut and if she was in the right frame of mind she might have apologised for crushing Héctor’s hand. Instead, she moaned as she finally reached her release.

Slowly, Imelda’s body unravelled. She panted out a small apology as Héctor removed his hand.

“Want me – want me to …?”

Héctor kissed her cheek. “I’m fine. That was for you…”

There was a thoughtful look on his face as his eyes darted back and forth between his hand, wet from Imelda, and his dressing gown. Imelda stared at him, aghast. “ _No_. Clothes are not for cleaning up.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Yes, you were. I could see it –” Imelda’s accusation dissolved into giggles when Héctor tickled her stomach; smart enough to use his clean hand. Imelda was already exhausted, so when he stopped, she slumped in her husband’s lap and considered sleeping. Which was a problem when said husband was still debating what to do about his wet hand.

Héctor leaned forward, and Imelda latched onto his chest to prevent herself from falling, and he held his hand out to the rain. Within a matter of seconds, he was clean. Imelda unhappily muttered, “We’re mopping the balcony tomorrow.”

“It’s fine. _I’ll_ mop it.”

Imelda thanked him, a part of her wanting to get active again and another part grateful for the lack of chores beyond caring for Coco.

“Imelda?” Héctor lowered his head and kissed her. “Was that alright?”

She lazily nodded, her eyes far heavier than before. “Need a shower though.”

“Or we could stay here a little longer,” Héctor suggested quietly.

Content with the idea, Imelda settled. She fought to keep her eyes open but Héctor’s fingers were back, delicately combing her hair, and soon she relented.

Everything was all well and good, and the two of them would have accidentally but happily slept there all night. However, a few minutes after that thought drifted through Imelda’s mind, the storm decided to throw a party. A powerful gust of wind flew across their property, throwing chilling rain onto the couple, who woke up with a start. Before either could reorganise themselves, a door downstairs slammed shut from the wind.

The sound was heard at every corner of the house.

And it was followed by the terrified cries of their baby.

As soon as they heard her, Héctor and Imelda scurried after her, shivering from the rain and still befuddled over the sudden change. In a way, Imelda found it kind of funny. She smiled as she raced down the hallway. After her schedule returned to normal, she vowed to make sure those moments with her husband occurred more often.

**Author's Note:**

> First time ever writing smut so apologies if it ain’t great.  
> Big BIG thanks to PaperGardener for beta reading this. Check out her works if you want A-grade quality smut.


End file.
